Life, In A Nutshell
by fennecfawkes
Summary: Chad/Ryan. Named after a Barenaked Ladies song. A series of vignettes, year by year, documenting Ryan and Chad's relationship from Ryan's perspective. These characters are not my own. I cannot stress this enough.
1. Grade 7: Today, I Changed

Ryan didn't understand why Sharpay wanted to go to basketball games until he saw the way she looked at Troy Bolton, standing at the sidelines, looking nervous as he waited to be called in to the game. Normally, his sister would laugh at his jokes, but today, she didn't seem to appreciate his comparisons of different players to different primates. If you really looked at him, Zeke did look like an overgrown capuchin, but Sharpay failed to see the comparison.

When he got to Chad, Ryan couldn't quite place what kind of monkey he would be. Actually, all he was seeing when he looked at Chad was his legs. Chad's voice was the first to change in their entire class, two whole years ago now. Ryan's was just about the last. He was jealous of Chad, Chad and his muscles and his strong legs and his smile and even his hair...

OK, maybe "jealous" wasn't the right word for it.

Ryan knew he liked boys. He'd liked boys for a long time. He didn't tell anyone. It didn't seem important, and it wouldn't be a good idea if he didn't want to be made fun of. But he'd never really had a crush before. This felt different. He wanted to touch Chad. And that scared him.

So he pushed away the thoughts and put them in the imaginary box he kept in his head, where the things he shouldn't think went, and he watched the game and tried to forget how nice Chad looked in those shorts.


	2. Grade 8: It's About Standards

Grade 8

All the jocks were dating cheerleaders now. It was kind of funny, seeing them paired off one by one. Sharpay didn't understand how funny it was, though. Ryan guessed that she still liked Troy, even though she said she didn't anymore.

The only jock who hadn't gotten a girlfriend was Chad, and Ryan found that interesting. He couldn't figure out why. In Ryan's mind, Chad was the cutest of any jocks (and anyone in the school, really), and he had a good sense of humor, and he was pretty friendly, even to people like Sharpay and Ryan. But he didn't have a cheerleader to kiss in the hallway. And Ryan wanted to know why.

So he asked Jason, who he'd always gotten along with. Jason said no one was good enough for Chad, that Chad was really picky and couldn't find anyone with all the qualities he wanted in a girlfriend—a good dresser, funny, cute, considerate, smart, the list went on. Ryan thought he was probably most of those things. But he didn't tell Jason that. So far, no one knew he was gay. And he didn't want anyone to know, either.

The whole year, Chad never ended up dating anyone. He danced with a couple girls at the spring dance, but he didn't look like he cared very much about it. Ryan did the same thing. He didn't know why, but there were girls with crushes on him, too. It scared him a little. If they ever asked him out, did he have to tell them the truth? But no one had yet, and that was lucky.

Once, he and Chad ended up at the punch bowl at the same time.

"This is nice," Ryan said lamely. He ladled them both some punch.

"Thanks." Chad took a cup from Ryan, and their fingertips brushed. Ryan tried not to gasp. "Not really, though. I'm sick of people thinking I don't like girls. I do. I just ... don't like anyone here. That's all." Chad looked at Ryan, an embarrassed expression on his face. "Sorry. Didn't mean to dump on you."

"That's fine. I know what you mean."

They smiled at each other and went back to their separate cliques. Ryan had some new questions, but he knew he wouldn't get to ask them.


	3. Grade 9: With A Little Sweetness

People had noticed by now, he was sure of it. They stared sometimes in the hallways, paying extra attention to the hats and the tight pants and the expensive shoes. Ryan was gay, and he was sure at least some of the student body knew.

Lucky for him, their attention was diverted by the first out couple they'd ever seen. Adrian and Steven were seniors, both extremely good-looking and extremely gay. Ryan had a crush on both of them, not individually, but as a couple. He wanted their confidence, and maybe their jeans and hair product, while he was at it.

For once, the talk of the locker room wasn't this cheerleader's chest or that volleyball player's legs. It was Adrian and Steven. Half the boys made fun of them. The other half stayed quiet. Chad belonged to that other half, and Ryan was so, so glad. It was nice to know that someone he liked so much wasn't homophobic.

One day, after a particularly crude discussion about the boys, Ryan and Chad were the only boys remaining in the locker room. They had gym last period, and Ryan was taking care of his shoes. They had eyelets and hooks and he didn't want to miss a single one. Chad was just dawdling. Ryan recognized that. He often did that around Chad for different reasons.

"What's up? You're kind of zoned right now," Ryan said. He and Chad didn't talk much, but they were comfortable enough with each other to chat now and then.

"It's about Adrian and Steven," said Chad, hesitating before adding, "I'm really jealous of them."

"But they get made fun of all the time," Ryan said.

"Yeah, but they're so confident," said Chad. "So OK with who they are. And they don't care what anyone else thinks at all. I wish I felt that way."

"You have no reason not to," Ryan said. "You're a really great guy, Chad. You're friendly, and you're funny, and you're good at what you do, so long as it isn't math. You should be as confident as Adrian and Steven. You deserve to be."

Ryan feared he'd said too much. Chad did look a bit confused, but he gave Ryan a shy smile.

"Thanks, man," he said. "I needed that."

"Well, later," said Ryan, getting up to leave. He'd missed a hook or two. He didn't care anymore. He needed to get out of there before he did something really, really stupid.


	4. Grade 10: Just To Clarify

Eventually, Ryan just bit the bullet and came out. No one seemed too surprised, and most people found it extremely unthreatening. Despite how outgoing he might be, no one but his closest friends knew a whole lot about Ryan. If you could be both flamboyant and reserved, that was him.

The lack of reaction was refreshing, as was his newfound freedom from girls getting crushes on him. Kelsi, the drama club's pianist, quit looking at him too long. That one cheerleader with the pointy nose who looked like a bird didn't ask him how his night was every morning in homeroom anymore. And some senior with a .001% body fat ratio winked at him once in a while. Ryan didn't wink back, but he would smile, because hey, it was nice to finally be noticed by someone you'd potentially be attracted to.

The one person Ryan really, really wanted to react hadn't said a word. Chad talked to him as much as he had before and acted as though nothing had changed. If it were anyone else, that'd be great. But he wanted Chad to ... well, he didn't know, exactly. Congratulate him? Hug him? Maybe tackle him and admit his feelings? Ryan knew Chad didn't have any of those. At least, he didn't have any of those for Ryan. It still seemed that Chad wasn't interested in anyone. Still no girlfriends or discussion of crushes in the locker room or, well, anything.

One day, Chad finally took Ryan aside and said something.

"So, dude, I don't know if you've noticed, but no one's been talking about girls around you here." They were in the locker room. They'd both straggled, maybe out of pure laziness, maybe, Ryan hoped, out of more than that.

"Yeah, I did, actually," Ryan said. "Could you go ahead and tell them that they can talk about girls in front of me? It's not like I'm disgusted. I mean, think about it. It doesn't gross you out if a girl talks about a guy, does it?"

"No."

"So why should it bother me if you talk about girls?" Ryan paused. "One thing, though. If you could all continue avoiding talking about my sister..."

Chad laughed. "Sure thing, man."

From there on in, Chad smiled at Ryan more, said hi to him more, generally acknowledged that he existed more. Ryan wasn't sure what exactly had changed, and why that conversation had caused it. But he didn't really care, considering that Chad was now almost his friend, or something like that. Maybe eventually they'd be real friends, then good friends, and then what? The possibilities were ... well, Ryan thought, they still weren't really possibilities at all. But it did give him something nice to think about the next time he took his pants off.


	5. Grade 11: What Whiskey Looks Like

"This is weird," Chad said to Ryan, passing him a bottle of Jack Daniels after taking a healthy swig.

"Super weird," Ryan agreed, following suit. The liquor burned the back of his throat, but the pain was ... well, it was good.

The two of them were sitting in Ryan's old tree house. It was the night of the wrap party for the winter musical, and once Sharpay had started a sing-along and Gabriella and Troy had started making out in a major way, Chad had pulled the bottle of Jack out of his back pocket and gestured at the place Ryan used to spend so many hours, reading his sister's Babysitters Club books and listening to show tunes.

"See, you and me, we're friends, right? And that's cool," said Chad, who gestured with his hands much more when he was on the edge of inebriated. "But all of our friends, being friends _together_? That's messed up, man. That's really messed up."

"I agree," Ryan said, taking the bottle back from Chad. Yes, this pain was good. Great, even. Great enough to take another drink.

"Hey, don't have it all, man," said Chad, nudging Ryan's shoulder with his. Ryan shivered slightly.

"You cold?" Chad asked. He shrugged off his letterman's jacket and offered it to Ryan, who gladly accepted it. Now he'd smell like Chad for at least a day or two. And that sounded about as great as more whiskey.

"I think it's all Gabriella's fault," Ryan said. "She's just so damn cute. She unites people with her overwhelming cuteness."

"Is she cute?" asked Chad absently. "I haven't noticed."

"You haven't noticed?" Ryan sounded as dubious as he could under the influence. "But don't you like girls or whatever? I mean, I'm super gay, and I noticed. Hell, I'd make out with her."

Chad smirked and punched Ryan lightly on the shoulder. "No, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would." Ryan was joking with Chad. No, no, Ryan was _flirting _with Chad, and Chad didn't seem to mind.

"Whatever, man. So, I guess I'm supposed to ask Taylor out, right?"

Ryan's stomach dropped. He drank again. "Well, do you like her?"

Chad shrugged. "No. I really don't. I think she's kind of ... what's the word? Abrasive. She's abrasive. And she thinks she's smarter than everyone else, and even if it's true—" Chad took another drink. "Even if it's true, that doesn't make it OK to have an ego about it."

"Well, you think you're awesome," Ryan pointed out.

"That's because I am," said Chad. "And you know it. Otherwise, I wouldn't be allowed to hang out in your tree house."

"True, I suppose," Ryan said, grinning at this boy he'd lusted after for so long, enough that he'd use the phrase 'lusted after.'

"But you're awesome, too, dude." Chad clapped him on the back, then left his arm draped lazily around Ryan's shoulder. Ryan steeled himself against shivering and kind of melted back into Chad. Chad's arm. That. The part that was touching him.

"Thanks. Where's all the whiskey going?" Ryan asked.

"Down our throats, to our heads," said Chad, laughing at his own cleverness.

"Nice." Ryan took a final sip, then handed the nearly empty bottle back to Chad. "You do the honors."

Chad finished it off. "Well, we better get used to this. Hanging out, I mean. We're all in this together, or something like that."

"Right. Yes."

"Hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like anybody? Like, any guys?"

"Yeah." Oh, shit. "But he ... yeah, I'm not going to tell him."

"You should," Chad said, looking at him directly. "I bet whoever he is, he really likes you."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Ryan, smiling a bit shyly, glad that Chad was too drunk to pick up on anything. "But thanks for the vote of confidence."

"So, should we party?"

"I think we're loosened up enough now."

Chad gave Ryan one last way too sexy (or was it actually? Ryan's vision was swimming a little) smile before hopping down the ladder. Ryan sighed and let Chad's jacket on. Even if this was as close as he'd ever get, it felt pretty amazing.


	6. Grade 12: Can I Have This Dance?

Chad was dancing with Kelsi when Ryan decided to cut in. He made a joke out of it, not wanting to give any indication of ulterior motives. Kelsi shot him a knowing look. He rolled his eyes at her and waved her off. Chad's hands were sturdy, as Ryan had always figured they'd be, gripping his sides as firmly as Ryan would've hoped. Ryan put his hands on Chad's shoulders and prayed he didn't step on the almost disconcertingly attractive boy's feet.

"You're a better dancer than most girls," Chad observed, shrugging at Zeke when he and Sharpay passed them. Zeke winked and Ryan was grateful for the low light. This way, Chad couldn't see that he was blushing.

"Well, I've had a bit of practice," said Ryan, doing a bit of a softshoe to demonstrate. Chad laughed.

"Yeah, I don't think Kelsi can do that," he said. "It's just natural for you, isn't it? It's, like, your thing."

"Well, you don't have to think about what you're doing when you pick up a basketball, do you?"

"Not really, I guess."

"Well, there you have it." The song ended, and something much slower came on. Ryan refrained from putting his head on Chad's shoulder, though he would have loved to. Not too much too fast.

"Two weeks till graduation," Chad said idly. "You excited?"

"Yeah, I am." Ryan was going to Julliard whether he got the scholarship or not. "I mean, there's certain things"—And by that, he meant people—"I'll miss about Albuquerque, but ... New York. Can you imagine?"

"Hardly," said Chad. "I'm staying here, remember?"

"You should travel this summer. Get out. Go somewhere," Ryan encouraged him. "It'd be good to get away before you stay ... you know, semi-permanently."

"You're probably right."

"I usually am."

Chad laughed a little, not quite meeting Ryan's eye. The conversation had taken a turn toward the mildly flirtatious a while back, and Ryan couldn't imagine Chad was completely comfortable with that. But Ryan certainly was. And he was fairly convinced he could get Chad to that point, too.

"So," said Ryan. "You going to the musical?"


	7. Freshman Year: Follow The Day

Chad and Ryan had had a good day. No, not just a good day. A really, _really _good day. They'd gotten up early to go golfing. Then they'd gone to the movies to see a musical that Chad didn't hate. At least, he said he didn't. Then they ate a ridiculously huge meal at the resort. Then they swam, but mostly laid on inflatable alligators in the pool. Then they went to the Evans', where Ryan practically had his own floor of the house, and made out. It could be said that copious amounts of making out occurred.

"God," Chad said, sounding extremely satisfied when all was said and done.

"Ryan, actually," Ryan corrected him, putting the fedora he'd been wearing pre-make out session back on his head. "When'd you knock that off?"

"Dunno. First five minutes or so, maybe? Does it matter? It's on again."

"I probably look terrible."

Chad rolled his eyes. "You look fabulous, Ry. Simply fabulous."

"Let's try that with a little more sarcasm next time. I want it pouring, not dripping."

Chad gave him a kiss, presumably to shut him up. It worked, and they were back at it for a time, but eventually, Ryan protested, saying his lips felt swollen.

"I'll be softer," Chad promised.

"Maybe later," said Ryan, smiling. "We should watch old television reruns, I think." He flipped on the TV as they got into their normal positions, Chad sitting up and Ryan laying down with his head in Chad's lap. _Happy Days _was just starting. Ryan sang along with the theme song.

"I don't understand it," Chad said when it was over. "Your voice, I mean. How do I still freak out every time I hear it?"

"Same reason I still freak out whenever I see you hit a ball with a stick," said Ryan. "We love each other and, more importantly to this particular question, we want each other's bodies."

"True," said Chad. "I just didn't realize that it could, you know, last this long."

"It's only been a year."

"Yeah, but you haven't gotten sick of me. And I've never gotten sick of you. Doesn't that happen in, like, every relationship?"

"It doesn't have to," Ryan reached up and brushed some stray hairs out of Chad's face. "And I don't think it will."

"Does it ever scare you?" asked Chad, sounding serious. He looked down at Ryan. Looking at him in the eye, he asked, "I mean, the thought of being together for ... a long time?"

"You can say 'forever,' Chad," Ryan said. "And yeah, it does. But it's a good kind of scary. I mean, I was happy enough before, but with you, now? I don't think there's anything better for me, anywhere."

"I know what you mean." Chad leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. Ryan repositioned himself so he could kiss Chad on the lips. Just once, though. OK, twice. Alright, maybe he should do it again. It never ceased to amaze Ryan how ... ravenous they could both be sometimes. Sure, it was still June, and they'd only been able to see each other regularly since Ryan moved back two weeks ago, but shouldn't they be tired of each other's mouths and hands and torsos and oh _wow_, that was new.

No, he thought later, when Chad had nodded off and Ryan wondered idly how angry Mr. Danforth would be that his should-be-heterosexual son was staying over at the gay drama kid's house _again._ It wasn't that Mr. Danforth disliked Ryan. He just disliked that his son wasn't normal, or something like that. Ryan pushed the thought aside and looked at Chad, whose head had fallen onto Ryan's shoulder at some point. This boy, the boy he'd wanted for so long, who he'd had for a year now and didn't ever want to let go ... What had he done to have gotten so lucky?

Chad stirred. Ryan kissed him on the top of his head.

"Hey," he said softly. "You fell asleep again. You awake enough to drive home?"

Chad blinked at him and shook his head. "I'll tell my dad we weren't making out."

Ryan laughed, quietly, so as not to wake Chad up any more. "I don't think you have to be specific."

"I never am. Except with my mom." Chad grinned and kissed Ryan before lying down and going back to sleep.

After one more episode of _Happy Days_, Ryan laid down next to Chad. He laced his fingers through his boyfriend's. Anti-gay dads aside, things were somewhere close to ideal, and that was the last thought he had before curling up to Chad and falling dead asleep.


	8. Sophomore Year: Approximations

"Admit it. You could totally live here."

Chad laughed at Ryan's pronouncement. They'd just left the theatre and were headed back to Ryan's place after seeing _American Idiot_.

"Well, I guess if we were seeing that kind of musical all the time, and then staying up late at your place, messing around and watching the History Channel, and being unemployed but still keeping afloat, then yeah, I could totally live here," said Chad. "But, such as it is..."

"I know, I know," Ryan said. "Two more years in Albuquerque, then you'll make a decision."

"You understand, right?" Chad sounded concerned, which Ryan found cute, which made him want to get to the subway substantially faster. He quickened his pace as Chad continued, "I mean, I want to be with you, but it doesn't necessarily have to be in New York, right?"

"Depends, I guess." Ryan practically ran down the stairs to catch the car that was about to leave the station.

"What's your rush, man?" Chad asked.

"You. You're really cute. And I'd kind of like to ... yeah, not going to go on with that."

"I haven't the faintest what you're talking about," Chad said innocently. "Anyway, what does it depend on?"

"Well, if I get a more permanent job here, then I'd want to stay," said Ryan. "And if I don't, then I'd want to move to another big city. They're the right place for me, you know?'

"What about Chicago?" Chad suggested.

Ryan wrinkled his nose. "Too dirty."

"Detroit?"

"Too poor."

"L.A.?"

"Too smoggy."

"Boston?"

"Too many accents."

"Philadelphia?"

"Too ghetto."

Chad sighed. "New York?"

Ryan grinned. "Now, that sounds perfect."

"So, we could talk about something that isn't the nebulous future," said Chad.

"'Nebulous?' When did your vocabulary develop?"

"College, I guess," Chad said with a shrug. "Anyway. So, what part are you playing next?"

"Oh, an off-off-Broadway company's doing _Dog Sees God _and I'm playing Van. Linus. It's a black comedy about Charlie Brown," Ryan explained, seeing Chad's confused expression. "I think you'd like it."

"You're not kissing any girls again, are you?" Chad said, teasing.

"Not that I know of. I'll let you know if that changes, though. And how many times. So we can keep count again."

Chad grinned. "Now I know what you meant when we got on. How long till we get off?" He smacked his forehead when he realized what he'd said.

"By my estimation..." Ryan looked at his watch and smiled slyly at Chad. "About half an hour. When we're getting to my place? Right here."

"Half an hour, huh? You really think it'll take that long?"

"We'll just have to see, now, won't we?"

Ryan loved performing, and choreographing, and singing, and getting all the answers right in the obscure cultural studies categories on _Jeopardy_. But there was nothing he loved more than being held by Chad in the aftermath of whatever had transpired in the same bed however many minutes before. He laid against the boy's—man's, maybe?—chest and felt is steady rise and fall. That heart under there? It was his. And he still didn't understand how it had happened.

Well, he did. He'd fallen for Chad when he was 12, and Chad had eventually reciprocated when he was nearly 18. Six years of standing idly by, trying to flirt, hoping he'd notice. And finally, one day, OK, maybe spread carefully out over the course of four days, he did. And there was much rejoicing in the form of kissing in his parents' Jacuzzi.

"What are you thinking about?" Chad asked. "Usually you can't shut up afterward."

"You. Us. Waiting six years for you to realize you totally wanted me."

Chad laughed. "It did take a while, didn't it?" You must've been bored."

"I was," said Ryan. "Nothing was interesting. The world was monochromatic. I couldn't smell flowers or hear birds or sing show tunes—"

"OK, asshole, you've made your point," Chad said, laughing. "So, what did you do without a boyfriend? You know about me already. I just filled all that time I could've been making out with some faceless cheerleader with sports instead."

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Ryan. "Theatre. Performing. It was all I did, all I tried to think about. I hardly had time to pine away for you when I started trying out for community stuff rather than East High shows."

"But you still had time," Chad pointed out.

"Always. Still do, most of the year." Ryan kissed Chad on the chest. "Why do you have to go back to Albuquerque? Remind me."

"I'm not leaving for two days, and class. School. Getting a job someday."

Ryan nodded. "Right. In New York."

"Whatever you say, Ry." Ryan could practically hear Chad rolling his eyes.

"Give me a couple years," said Ryan as they drifted off to sleep. "Give me a couple years, and you'll be living here and loving it."


	9. Junior Year: The Tree House Revisited

"Whiskey, huh?"

"Just thought we could revisit that lovely night we had in high school," said Chad, opening the bottle and taking a swig. It was June, and he and Ryan were in Ryan's bedroom. The TV was on, but the boys were paying substantially more attention to each other.

"You remember, right?"

Ryan tapped his chin with one finger. "Ah, yes. I faintly recall professing my love for you, ever so subtly, and you telling me how much you wanted me."

Chad smacked him on the arm and handed off the bottle of Jack Daniels. Ryan took a hearty drink and kissed his boyfriend, some alcohol sloshing back and forth between their mouths.

"I didn't say I wanted you. I said any guy who you liked would really like you back."

"And I liked you. Obviously. I was wearing your letter jacket. Which, by the way, I didn't take off for two days, or something like that. I really, really wanted to smell like you."

Chad laughed. "That's creepy. And cute. I pretended that night never happened till, you know..."

"The hot tub?"

"Yeah. That." Chad grinned. "I still think that first kiss was one of our best ones."

"Yeah, you're right. And we can't really recapture that."

"How awful we both were..."

"But how much fun it was."

"Almost six years of sexual tension resolved."

"And look at us now," said Ryan, smiling. "Your dad finally gives you the go-ahead on being a gay."

"It was really great. I wish you'd been there," Chad said. "He had his arms folded, then he was literally twiddling his thumbs when he said, 'Son, I understand that you can be different and be happy. As long as I don't have to see it, I'm OK with it.'" Chad did a pretty solid imitation of his father.

Ryan laughed. "He didn't refer to the gay agenda or anything, then?"

"Nah, he was pretty reined in," said Chad. "My mom was there. And hey, give me that whiskey. We don't want you getting sick."

"Please, Chad. I've never once thrown up because I was drunk. And you have, what, five times?"

"Four," Chad corrected him. "And you were only there to verify one of them, so how can we really know all those other times happened?"

"There are witnesses." Ryan ticked them off on his fingers. "Troy, when we were still in high school. Roommate John, twice, once when you were writing a paper and cracked under pressure, and once at a keg party you shouldn't have attended. Sharpay, my own sister, when you got a little too into the punch at the one wrap party you got invited to. And me, in my apartment, after karaoke."

"It's only because you sang Katy Perry," said Chad. "Needed that image out of my mind."

"Oh, come on. You know you love it when you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans."

Chad slapped his hands over his ears. "No! Do you want me to throw up again?"

"If you're going to, at least make it to the toilet this time," Ryan suggested. "And while you're at it, give me that bottle back. We should limit your intake, not mine."

"I love you so much," said Chad, handing Ryan the bottle and kissing him.

"I love you too, lush."

"This doesn't seem like a very exciting celebration," Chad commented. "Shouldn't we be throwing a party? Like, 'Yay, Chad's dad is OK with his son being a total fag,' with rainbows and shit?"

Ryan laughed. "Who would we invite? I'm pretty sure we're the only gays in Albuquerque."

"I doubt that."

"OK, the only members of the East High graduating class of 2008. And it is weird not to hold hands in public or anything like that," Ryan said. "Believe it or not, Albuquerque doesn't have much in common with New York."

"I noticed. You really love it there, don't you?"

Ryan nodded. "Would be better with you."

"I know." Chad was quiet for a moment. Ryan took the opportunity to remove the bottle of Jack from Chad's grip and finish off the dregs.

"Hey, I wasn't done with that!" said Chad, grinning now.

"I'd rather you not be done with me," Ryan said, mussing Chad's hair.

"Clever. Real clever." Chad kissed Ryan. Inspired by alcohol or God knows what, Ryan had an idea.

"We should mess around in the tree house," he said excitedly. "Take it back to where everything began."

Chad laughed, then went slightly pale. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes. Come on." Ryan dragged Chad by the hand. "Let's go outside, and get in the tree house, and do our thing. You know you want to."

"I guess I do," said Chad. "But why?"

"I don't know," Ryan admitted. "But it seems like a good idea, doesn't it?"

"Whatever. Good enough for me," Chad said, and the two of them made out like teenagers and then some in Ryan's childhood haunt. Ryan had always wanted to do this with Chad from the moment Chad had kissed him, and maybe before that. And it was good. Really, really good.

"You still taste like whiskey," Ryan said to Chad.

"You just taste like Ryan," said Chad.

"And what does that taste like?"

"I don't know." Chad furrowed his brow in concentration. Ryan loved when he did that. "Something sweet, but not too sweet. Like vanilla. But there's a bit of bite to it, too. Like the smell of someone else eating an orange."

"I like that." Ryan leaned against Chad's bare chest. "You're more like ... cinnamon, I think."

"And you like cinnamon?"

"My favorite flavor." They kissed. Chad looked at Ryan and was for once the one to brush hair out of his boyfriend's eyes.

"I really do think about it, you know," he said. "New York, I mean. And moving there with you. I'll decide soon, I promise."

"And will I like your decision?" Ryan asked quietly.

Chad paused before answering, "I think you will."

They kissed again, and again, and again.


	10. Senior Year, Post Grad: Right

"I'm so glad we're not in there anymore," said Chad.

Ryan sighed and leaned against Chad, putting his head on his boyfriend's—wait, fiancé's—shoulder. "I know. Promise me you won't hate my family when all of this over."

"As long as you won't hate mine."

"Deal."

It was wedding planning season, and while they'd come into it somewhat excited, neither Ryan nor Chad was too happy about it. They were at the Evans house—well, actually, outside of it, in Ryan's tree house. They'd been listening to their mothers heatedly discussing centerpieces, when, through a series of gestures and mouthed words and flubbed lip reading, they'd escaped to the refuge of Ryan's childhood haunt and the first place they ever experienced what one might call "a moment."

"I knew planning a wedding was stressful, but I didn't realize that it'd freak our parents out more than us," Chad said. "Oh, I grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge on my way out. All I could find was that British crap you like." He handed Ryan a bottle. Ryan, staying as cuddly as he could, took out his key ring to get at his bottle opener and opened both their bottles before taking a drink.

"Hey, Stella Artois is _not _crap," said Ryan. "It's delicious. A lot smoother than the swill you like."

"There's nothing wrong with PBR," Chad said. Though he wasn't looking at him, Ryan knew from his tone of voice that his boyfriend—fiancé—was grinning.

"That is something I'll miss about college," said Chad, sounding wistful. "Drinking PBR and talking about why New Mexico doesn't have any good sport teams with my roommates."

"You could still do that, you know."

"One, I'm moving. And two, it just wouldn't be the same."

"Would you believe me if I said I'm sorry I'm taking you away from that?" Ryan asked.

"About halfway, I would," said Chad. "I know you care about me keeping up with the people around here. But I also know you're selfish."

Ryan laughed. "With you, yes, I am."

"Oh, hey, I got a call from P.S. 138," said Chad. "Earlier, when I said I needed to use the bathroom and left for half an hour while your mom was talking about flowers—"

"Yeah, I remember that," said Ryan.

"—The principal called me. He was really impressed that I coached Little League, and my student teaching record, and they want to interview me next week, when we're in the city again."

"Chad, that's fantastic!" Ryan kissed him. "See? You had nothing to be nervous about." Chad was generally somewhat anxious about his potential for a career. He hadn't done well in high school, grade-wise, but he'd actually given college classes some effort, so his GPA was high enough that he had a decent chance at grad school if teaching didn't work out. More than that, though, Chad doubted his ability—so it was very, very good that he'd already gotten a call the first week of July.

"Well, even if I get a job, I'm still kind of worried about social stuff."

Ryan looked at him oddly. "But you're good at the whole making friends thing. You're better than I am."

Chad scoffed. "You know that's not true. You already have a group of friends in New York, and honestly, I'm not sure they'll like me very much."

"OK, that's ridiculous," said Ryan. "They all like you. They'd like you even if you were a total deadbeat, because you like me. And you're not a deadbeat. You're awesome. You know that." Ryan kissed him on the forehead, and Chad smiled.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Chad took a deep breath. "So, ready to go back in there?"

"Not yet." Ryan rolled on top of Chad and kissed him. Hard.

"Whoa," said Chad, who'd gone from slumped against the wall of the tree house to the floor with a soft _thump_. "We're not even drunk this time."

"Since when has that ever mattered?"

"Hm. You make a good point." Chad smiled and kissed Ryan, a little softer this time, but still with enough urgency that Ryan knew they were on the same page.

"Centerpieces can wait," he said, smiling.

"They can wait forever, for all I care," said Chad. "Flowers are nice and all, but this? This is where we should be."

"I agree."

And they went down together again.


End file.
